Opulent
by Raven and Writing Desks
Summary: An embellished piece of card paper is delicately set into her gloved hand, elegant cursive writing visible in the dim lighting from the stage. "Miss Haruno, Will you please visit my box tonight?" No signature, but then again, she wouldn't expect one. She smiles, thinking of the things to come.


**A/N: **_Inspired by the book series "The Luxe" which is fabulous. I highly recommend it. _

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**Opulent**

She drowns out the noise below her as the man on the stage speaks of the beauty of the woman in the balcony. She had seen this one so many times before; she practically knows all the line by heart.

It has never been one of her favorites; after all, the ending is so rotten and unfortunate, only a sadist would enjoy it. With a sigh, she raises the view of her small binoculars from the stage and scans the box seat almost directly across from hers.

The light is practically nonexistent, but she is still able to make out the form of a silhouette. When she had first been told of the purchase of their own private box, she had been opposed to the idea. That is, until she realized who owns the luxurious suite right across from her own.

"The stage is down here," a voice says as a hand wraps around her wrist. With gentle force, it guides the gaze of the binoculars back down on the actors before moving to intertwine fingers with her left hand.

"Sweetheart," the _term of endearment _is spoken as a warning as masculine fingers fiddle with the diamond engagement ring on her hand.

"I've just seen this play so many times, _darling._" She emphasizes the word in the same manner, not out of love. No, never out of love.

"Miss Haruno," a heavily accented voice whispers in her ear from behind, breaking the tense moment between the betrothed couple. "You have a message."

An embellished piece of card paper is delicately set into her gloved hand, elegant cursive writing visible in the dim lighting from the stage.

_Miss Haruno,_

_Will you please visit my box tonight? _

No signature, but then again, she wouldn't expect one. She smiles, tracing the black ink with her silken clad finger.

Abruptly standing from her maroon cushioned chair, she catches the attention of her company. He looks at her, his pearl eyes blank with boredom.

"I'm going to go powder my nose," she says distractedly. She knows he sees through her lie, but she also knows that he doesn't care. With a curt nod of dismissal, she moves towards the back of the box, her dress making a soft _shushing _sounds with each of her small steps.

"Would you like me to accompany you, miss?" One of the attendants ask her before she can slip out the doorway.

"That is unnecessary, a private walk will do me some good," she replies before moving to part the thick red curtain, blocking her from her freedom.

"Sakura," She turns back to the figure of her fiancé who continues to study the play in front of him. "Do not let the press see you."

With a soft noise from the back of her throat, she slips out into the brightly lit hallway.

Due to the climax of the play approaching, the corridor is practically empty. Crystal cut chandeliers dot the scalloped ceiling periodically and golden embellishes line the walls. She nods her head at a man carrying a bottle of champagne as she steps lightly down the carpeted hall.

Passing the powder room in favor of taking a turn, she stands outside of a thick curtain similar to the one in the doorway of her own suite.

Before she can part it, a white-gloved hand pulls it open, drags her in, before drawing it shut quickly. Before she can get her bearings in the dark balcony seat, a greedy mouth closes over her own.

She's lost in the feel of the velvety tongue as it traces her lips, the strong hands as they grip on her hips, and the dull teeth as they nip on her skin. She revels in the feel of being wanted, the feel of being loved. She wants to cry out in disappointment when she feels the set of lips leave her, but the sound of lines being artfully read remind her of where she is.

Glancing around, she finds herself pressed up against the back wall of the theater box. It's not unlike her own except for the fact that the warm glow of a dim light is not present, as well as a slew of servants.

A meter in front of her sits a pair of thick maroon chairs with dark wooden frames and only a foot in front of them is the short wall that blocks her view of the audience below. For the months since her fiancé purchased their box, she had gazed longingly over at this one, patiently waiting for him to be alone, patiently waiting for his invitation. Each weekend she would beg to come to the theater, ignoring the play in favor of watching _him. _

She suppresses her moans of pleasure as she feels her lover's hands move from the extravagant jade skirt of her dress to the golden bodice that shows off just the right amount of cleavage to give a good view of her assets, but not enough to be deemed publicly indecent.

"I watched you enter with him," a voice as smooth as crushed velvet whispers in her ear while talented fingers begin losing the silken ties. "You look beautiful."

She sighs in appreciation as his lips begin to suck on the sensitive skin below her earlobe. Dragging her own hands across the smooth shoulders of his tux, she moves them up to rest in the ebony spikes on his head.

She sucks in a gasps as she feels the expensive evening dress fall to the floor. Her lover enthusiastically dismissing her decency skirt as well, leaving her in cream bloomers and her intricate corset.

Eagerly, she pushes off his suit jacket and jumps up so that her ankles wrap around his waist, her knees pinned to the side of his hips. She plants a flurry of light kisses all over his face before pulling lightly at his hair.

He growls in satisfaction before moving down to suck on the creamy skin of her neck. She sheds the long silken gloves that he had somehow neglected to remove and arches into his strong chest.

Moving a hand down to play with her breasts, he finds the deliciously tight correset restricting them from him. With a sigh of frustration, he carries the pink-haired woman over to the adjacent coat closet so that no prying eyes, or ears for that matter, will be aware of their actions.

Setting her on the small stool inside, he pulls the black curtain shut and lights a lantern in the corner of the small room.

"Sasuke," she breathes out heavily, finally able to see her lover in his full glory. Deep onyx eyes memorize her every feature and smudges of pink lipstick dye the pale skin of his cheeks and mouth.

"Sakura," he replies before motioning her to turn around. She does as ordered and twists around on the stool so that her back is to him. He wraps his arms around her from behind and sucks on the skin of her neck. After leaving a dark love bite, he backs up and admires his work.

Talented fingers come down to the laces of her corset and begin unthreading them. "Damn these corsets," he mutters under his breath as he pulls away at the ties.

"At least you don't have to wear them," Sakura replies, her voice heavy with anticipation of what is to come. As Sasuke continues his work on her clothing, she glances around the room and sees a lone black coat and top hat occupying the hanging space.

Feeling the restrictive material loosen, she takes in a deep breath and shimmies out of it the rest of the way.

The Uchiha heir throws the offending material across the room, which in reality is less than a meter away, before flipping Sakura back around so that she's facing him and kneeling so that he's on the same height as her sitting form.

Leaning forward, he plants a deep passionate kiss on her rosebud lips, nibbling on the bottom one, and waiting for them to part. Sakura obliges and moans when she feels his tongue brush against hers as his hands begin to massage her breasts. Focusing on his mouth, she tastes a hint of brandy that she hadn't noticed before.

"Mmm," she hums in gratification of his touches, a sweet warmth forming in the pit of her stomach. Velvety lips move down her neck to her collarbone, in between the valley of her breasts before moving over to a pebbled nipple.

With a devilish smirk, Sasuke's lips capture the pink peak and begin sucking greedily on it.

"S-Sasuke," Sakura stutters out as she arches to give him better access. He continues his work as she pushes his head closer to her chest. In response, he moves a hand down over her bloomers until it rests of her clit. With sure movements, her rubs the soft material against the hypersensitive bundle of nerves. The intense feeling causes her to subconsciously buck her hips in order to increase the friction as her legs come up to wrap around his slender waist once again.

Sasuke releases her nipple with a popping noise, and moves back up to her mewling mouth. He pulls down the waistband of her bloomers and grazes a blunt nail over her clit causing her body to convulse in excitement.

In unison with plunging his tongue into her mouth, a single finger pushes past her folds and into her warm core. Her quiet cry of pleasure is swallowed by him as be begins curling the finger and stroking her from within. The bliss from feeling his appendage move within her, causes the pink-haired woman to mew in pleasure. Sasuke revels in the erotic sound and when he inserts another finger and begins pumping harder, Sakura's hands flail around, blindly searching for anything to grab onto. She settles for his shoulders, which she gives a light push to.

"What's wrong?" Sasuke asks as he nuzzles her neck.

"You are not allowed to make me come until at least your shirt's off," Sakura replies between heavy pants as she begins to undo the buttons of the crisp white shirt. With a chuckle, Sasuke helps her rid him of the shirt and bow tie, tossing them to the floor carelessly.

"I want to feel you against me," Sakura practically begs before moving from the stool to lie on the floor. Pulling him down towards her naked chest, she intertwines her fingers with those on his free hand, feeling the cool gold band on his ring finger.

Ignoring the nagging thoughts that come with the piece of jewelry, she pulls herself up for another sensual kiss, relishing in the warmth of his breath mingling with hers. Her hands trace down his sculpted torso and reach his pants, which she quickly unbuttons and pull down.

Removing his fingers from her opening, Sasuke breaks the heated kiss and stares down at the woman below him. Her bright emerald eyes gaze up at him, darkened with lust and a few pink locks that had previously been pinned up, frame her flushed face.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he replies before moving one of those soft strands and tucking it behind her ear. Her face flushes a deeper crimson and she buries her face in his neck.

Tipping her chin up, he covers her mouth with his as his thrusts into her, filling her completely.

His mouth muffles her scream of pleasure as he sets a fast pace. Their time is limited and he needs her to come with him, to let him know that they're still in sync.

"Sakura," she hears him pant out as he repeatedly slams into her, causing waves of euphoria to wash over her. With each movement from him, she finds a coil within her stomach tightening, waiting to snap.

She cannot help the gasps and moans that escape her throat, earning appreciative grunts from her lover. With one particularly hard thrust, she feels the coil reach its limit, snapping in a violent act of pleasure. Her legs begin to tremble as she welcomes the pleasure ripping her apart from the inside. She cries out his name loud enough to be heard through the curtain that conceals them from the watchers of the play.

He grunts her own name out again as he empties himself within her, permeating her with his own essence, not caring of the consequences.

Not caring about her fiancé.

Not caring about his wife.

Not caring about the goddamn world that has separated him from his love.

For this moment, she is his and he is fully hers and he breathes in relief as a dampened thunderous applause is heard from outside the room, signaling the end of the play.

Collapsing on top of her, he plants one last desperate kiss of longing, not knowing the next time that they will be able to unite. Her response is just as frantic, memorizing every crevice of him.

Eventually he rolls off of her, gathering her petite form into his arms. Burying his nose in her disheveled hair.

Her gaze passes over their hands, eyeing the gold bands around their fingers.

"Where's your wife tonight?" she asks sadly, remembering the lone coat hanging over their heads.

"She stayed at home," Sasuke replies nonchalantly, "I think she's figured out why I enjoy the theater so much."

Sakura thinks of the crimson haired lady whom she herself had witnessed Sasuke say 'I do' to only months ago. She snuggles deeper into his chest, reveling in the warmth that she never receives from her betrothed.

"Do you think of me when you sleep with her?" she whispers. Call her a glutton for punishment, but she needs to know his answer to the question that plagues her mind every night. The thought literally causing her to lose sleep.

"No," Sasuke replies curtly causing a small tear to roll down Sakura's face. "I've taken up residence in the guest room."

Sakura sits up and stares at him in shock. "What?"

"How can I go to bed with another woman?" he asks her, a hand coming up to cup her face as he wipes away the lone tear with his thumb.

"But she's your wife," she replies but stops once she catches the intense look in Sasuke's eyes.

"I love you, Sakura Haruno."

Said woman gasps, taken off guard by his words. He had only said those words once before. The last time they had been together, the night before his arranged marriage, the night before Neji Hyuuga had gotten down on one knee in front of all of society and made their own arranged engagement official.

Tears of happiness now filling her eyes, Sakura presses another kiss to his lips, but immediately finds herself pinned under him, his body concealing her own from his assistant that has just entered the confined space.

"Mister Uchiha, attendants are here to retrieve the future Mrs. Hyuuga."

Sasuke nods in response, dismissing the man, before climbing off of Sakura and getting dressed.

The pinkette remains on the floor, taking in the movements of his body as he pulls on the garments, memorizing the ripples of his lean muscles, and glorifying in the specimen that is Sasuke Uchiha.

When he finishes, he grabs the coat from the hanger, pulls her to her feet, and wraps it over her shoulders, hiding her naked body from view. While he is able to remove corsets, lacing them back up is not Sasuke's specialty.

After doing up the buttons, Sakura takes his hand as he leads her out of the coat closet and back into the box. By now, the lights are on illuminating the near empty theater. Other than the one the young lovers are in, only one theater box remains occupied.

On the balcony directly across the way, one Neji Hyuuga sits, eyeing his bride-to-be wrapped in her lover's coat as the servants flutter around her in order to make her more suitable for the walk to the carriage.

He does not blame her for her affair, after all, that is the life of the rich and prestigious. Separated forever from one's true love, doomed to a marriage promised by parents, mere moments after conception, parents whose own marriage is filled with lies and affairs.

The Hyuuga doesn't love her, he probably never will, but he will fulfill the duty expected of him, just like her, just like the Uchiha, just like every other damned youth of the founding families of society.

So he'll dismiss the affair, he'll send the servants after her to throw off the press, he'll turn away when she kisses Sasuke's cheek, and he'll marry Sakura Haruno, because that's what one does.

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**A/N: **_So yeah, this was mainly for lemon practice before I write the ones in my ongoing stories, so leave me reviews with ideas for improvements. It just sort of evolved into a big angst fest… it's a curse… Maybe I'll try a happy smut one-shot next time. _

_Thanks for reading!_


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